


Terror from Beneath

by CoolStev



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:07:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21781945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoolStev/pseuds/CoolStev
Summary: Set outside Lovecraft Country, this story follows Alex, a construction worker who becomes tangled up in the paranormal. His friends, Jamie, Darla, and Troy will become ensnared in this web of cosmic horror, and have to survive what comes next...
Kudos: 1





	Terror from Beneath

11/3/82 20:30, Swanvalley, West Virginia.  
Swanvalley, a beautiful city in the heart of West Virginia. A 2 hour drive from Orberville, Swanvalley is where all the ambitious Orbervillans would go after graduating, to attend the local college or to find work in one of the many blue or white collar jobs there. As a contractor for Morganhaul Construction Co., an accountant or salesperson at Swarski Paper Solutions, a… Well, these aren't very big ambitious positions, but when your only other options are little league baseball or working some dying mom and pop shop, they're very tempting offers. That's why I moved there in '79, to make something of myself rather than flip burgers at Rick's Burger Emporium. That's why everyone went there. Turns out, when you're one of hundreds, thousands, you're not special, and when you're not special, you don't get those nice job offers you were hoping for…  
Alex sat there, staring at the page, his pencil in hand. He knew where he wanted to go with this, but he didn't have the right words. He grabbed the page, ripping it from the journal and balling it up, tossing it at the tipped over bin in his room. This is why I shouldn't have bailed on English… He thought to himself. The ceiling fan swung above him, darkening the table with its shadow as it slowly creaked clockwise, not powerful enough to cool the small apartment room. Alex held his head in his hands, sighing. Surely writing would get him out of this mess, but he just couldn't do it. He didn't have the ideas, or the words to describe the ones he had. What time is it, anyway? He looked to the clock radio, some synth-laced tune playing quietly through the almost muted speakers. Shit, it really is 8:30. He popped open his curtains, light blinding him. Right, 12 hours behind… I really gotta fix that. He slipped out of his clothes, and went into the shower. Cold water poured down his body, chilling his very being as he recoiled from the icy hell droplets. "Motherf…" he stopped himself, taking a deep breath. Water heater's still broken. I'll talk to George about that later. He reluctantly slid into the cold water, drenching himself before before lathering with some lavender smelling soap his ex used to use. When he finally finished, a stream of scalding hot water scorched him, eliciting a flurry of curses. He ran out of the shower, drying quickly and getting his work clothes on. He ate a healthy breakfast of leftover pizza and almost expired milk, before popping his boots on, and getting in his Bronco. It was a 20 minute drive before he finally got to the construction site, where they were working on some office building. Matt, his old classmate and his supervisor, was already there before anyone else. Great, it's six feet of kiss ass… He thought, trying to walk past him.  
"Alex, you can't go in there." Matt said, holding his hand out in front of his chest.  
"Why not? I gotta earn my pay, right?"  
"The boss has some… Clients poking around in there. He said not to let anyone in, under any circumstances."  
"Well I need my money, so unle--" Alex stopped short when Matt held a paycheck up to his face.  
"Your week's pay. Take it, go so whatever the hell you want. Go take a trip back to Orber or something."  
"With all the murders? I'm good." He snatched the check from Matt's hairy fist. "Did your see these clients, though? What do they look like?"  
"Huh? Well… They're kinda fishy. And not in a suspicious way, I mean like if you took a fish's eyes and lips and put them on a human, that's what you'd get."  
"Must be from Alabama." Alex joked, turning to get back in his Bronco. He didn't like how hush hush everything was, so after he hopped in, he drove a little bit, getting to the other side of the site the long way around, do nobody would see him. A peek couldn't hurt. He thought to himself. He crouched low, moving past everything to get inside, and seeing the elevator, which was down. He didn't think there was a basement, since it would be way too wet, but he was even more curious now. He grabbed some gloves and a hardhat, and slid down the shaft slowly. It was deep, deeper than he'd thought, and he could have sworn he saw a human skull in the ground in the way down. He reached the bottom, and the air was damp, and smelled like mold and fish. He got into the elevator, and pushed the open button, coming out to do a long, dark, dank tunnel with dirt on every side. It was man-made, but it felt ancient somehow. He kept going through, aided by torches that were lit along the sides. As he got deeper, he could hear some sort of tribal music, and the sounds of… Reverie? He wasn't sure, but he went deeper, until he come out to the top of a stairway, leading out into a massive circle, filled with tents, a deep pond with fish swimming, and fires lighting what appeared to be flayed hung by chains and ropes. In the center was a huge pillar, surrounded by human bones, bits of human viscera, and in the very top, some statue devoted to a fish person. He knew that this wasn't natural, and he immediately turned to run, before seeing Matt coming down the tunnel, a sledgehammer in his hands.  
"I told you, Alex, not to come in…" he said, staring straight at him, bug-eyed and twitchy. The wood of the hammer's pole seemed to splinter in his grip, and it was clear that Alex wouldn't be leaving alive. In a desperate bid for survival, he grabbed a torch, swinging it right into Matt's face. Matt screamed out in pain, and while that made him drop his hammer, that stopped the celebration. Alex could feel a million beady eyes on his back, and he made a run for it. He slammed the elevator doors shut, and sent it up, but he could hear people climbing up the sides of the shaft, banging on the bottom of the elevator, as if trying to rip it open to try and pull him under. He ran as soon as it reached the top, and got right into his Bronco, driving until he felt like he was safe. He didn't know what he had seen, he didn't even see enough to get a good idea. He got to the nearest pay phone, and called up a friend.


End file.
